


My Saddle

by DaniJayNel



Series: 100 YumiKuri Stories [74]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/F, Oneshot, Smut, based on the song Far- Pony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historia can't believe that on top of being so attractive, Ymir has a few talents still hidden in her depths. And worse, Ymir enjoys watching her squirm with each reveal. But how hot can dancing and singing really be, when Ymir is the one doing it to a really dirty song?</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Saddle

**Author's Note:**

> By some miracle I have managed to write again. Hot damn. And it's such a nice story (wink, wink). I've been super obsessed with Becommissar since my holiday in Cape Town, and while readying such well written and dirty smut, and also listening to Pony by Far, I was inspired. I miss YumiKuri so much, and this writer's block is really, really bad. But I think I'm getting back into the groove. Anyway, enjoy the story. Don't forget to comment to let me know how much you missed me ;D

“If you’re horny, let’s do it. Ride it—my pony. My saddle’s…waiting. Come and… jump on it.”

The bass beat into Historia, soaked through her bones. She puffed out a hefty breath, felt the tips of her ears burn. Her cheeks were aflame, that much she knew. Ymir moved above her, saddled over Historia’s hips as they sat on the couch. The music moved through Ymir as well, but she took it more literally. Her dark eyes roamed all over Historia and her lips moved, singing the lyrics to that oh so very dirty song. Historia gulped.

“You and your body,” Ymir husked, eyes darkening still. “Every single portion.” She ran a hand through her short hair, tousled the brown locks, still staring, imploring. “Send chills up and down your spine…” She smirked. “Juices flowing down your thighs…”

Ymir sang it perfectly, lips in sync, and her voice was intoxicating. Not many people besides Historia knew that Ymir could actually sing really well, and it was with this that Ymir enjoyed singing to Historia only, surprising her, flustering her.

“If we’re gonna get nasty baby…”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Historia uttered, gulping yet again. Her mouth was so dry, but her palms were sweating and she could feel warmth pooling between her legs.

Before singing the next bit, Ymir suddenly flipped them over, and now Historia was the one atop Ymir’s lap. Ymir’s hands gripped onto Historia’s thighs, making sure they were pressed up nicely against her hips, and then Ymir grinned wolfishly and dragged her hands upwards in time with the song, singing to her heart’s content.

“First we’ll show and tell till I reach your ponytail, oh.” She did just that, caressing the skin at the back of Historia’s neck, up to her hair-tie. With one short tug it was gone, and Historia’s golden hair fell loosely around her shoulders. She felt heat sweep over her.

“Lurking all over and through you, baby, until we reach the stream.” Ymir’s hands tugged at Historia’s shirt, and then threw it off. She trailed her fingertips all over—Historia’s throat, her collarbones, shoulders, down and up her arms, and then across the valley between her breasts to her stomach. Historia could feel her muscles clench as Ymir’s touch sent sparks all along her nerves. She bit back a whimper, but Ymir knew it was there even with the music so loud. Vibrations still sailed through them both, Ymir still moved her hips, even with Historia quivering above her. “You’ll be on my jockey team, oh,” Ymir continued.

Historia fell over when Ymir moved her hips into her, smiling so obscenely that it made Historia’s head boil with arousal and embarrassment. She almost fell forward, shaking hands coming to rest on Ymir’s bare stomach—she wore a button-up shirt, though it was actually left open, revealing tantalizing skin. Ymir kept moving, and when she sang the end of the song, Historia nearly melted into a pool of sexual frustration and absolute infatuation. Those eyes, those golden eyes stared into Historia, all over Historia, and kept her riveted as she rode Ymir’s lap.

“If you’re horny, let’s do it. Ride it—my pony. My saddle’s…waiting. Come and… jump on it.”

With each beat of the drum, each strum of the guitar, Historia’s pulse jumped. Ymir had stilled, and she was grinning with so much satisfaction. Vague lyrics faded in the background, and then the song finally came to an end, and Historia sucked in a huge, shuddering breath.

“Why didn’t I know you could dance like that? Holy shit.”

Ymir chuckled and cleared her throat before speaking. It seemed that, with all the singing and the sexual energy, Ymir’s voice was still deeply husky. “I keep these things for special occasions.”

“Oh really?”

“I like to fluster you, little one.” Her smirk stretched wider. “I like seeing your face go all red. I love the way you bite your lip, like you want to bite me.”

“Oh yes,” Historia huffed, nodding. “I’d love to bite you right now.”

Ymir raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Definitely.”

Ymir twisted her body, bringing Historia onto her back on the couch, and then she laughed. “Someone sounds horny,” she husked, her mouth against Historia’s ear.

“Well duh,” Historia shot back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been wetter.”

Ymir inhaled sharply. Historia smirked to herself that she had managed to garner such a reaction. Ymir only wore thin boy shorts, so Historia raised a leg, pressed it to her centre. Historia laughed out right when Ymir growled into her ear, and then moaned loudly when Ymir’s teeth sank gently into her shoulder.

“Is that some kind of punishment?” she asked, breathless.

Ymir chuckled darkly, licking the spot she had bitten. She passed soft kisses over Historia’s throat, trailing all the way upwards until she was finally at her lips.

“Don’t tempt me,” Ymir threatened. “I know how to torture you until you scream for me.”

Historia’s chest tightened and she lost her breath. When it whooshed back into her, she felt her hips buck on their own, and released a long groan. “Ymiiiiir…”

Oh, the way Ymir loved to watch her squirm and beg. It drove Historia absolutely mad, which was exactly why Ymir did it. But Historia knew what Ymir was capable of when in the perfect mood—and they were thanks to the song—so a strong shiver rocked down her spine, and her hands went around to undo the hook of her bra. Ymir watched her with interest, not saying a word. But when Historia threw her bra to the side, Ymir bent down and kissed just the top of her breast. Historia drew in a breath, sighing.

“What mood are you in right now?” Historia asked. Her own voice had dropped a few octaves, and she felt herself impressed with how attractive she sounded. Apparently Ymir felt the same.

“Well,” Ymir started. She lightly kissed Historia’s chest again, and then moved down, placing calculated bites and kisses along Historia’s breasts, but always avoiding exactly where Historia wanted her. They forgot about words, and Ymir didn’t respond. Historia assumed that she must have forgotten that an answer was needed, but that didn’t matter as much. Ymir’s mouth was on her, hot and wanting, and her hands were tracing patterns everywhere else. One strayed to her hip, circling it, caressing it with so much promise. Historia loved the feel of Ymir’s hands clasped around her hips, especially when they were more adventurous and Historia rode her into ecstasy—strap-ons were a lovely invention. A small twinge had Historia wishing she could quickly fetch the device, but Ymir’s mouth finally took hold of a hardened nipple, and there was no way she was getting up.

“Remember to breathe,” Ymir instructed teasingly.

Historia groaned. “Sure thing.”

The other hand that had been playing at Historia’s side, swept up to take a full breast. Historia felt the heat of Ymir’s palm against her, and she dropped her head to the side to release soft, panting moans. “Ymir…”

Ymir grinned against Historia’s skin, but continued working her tongue, flicking against the tip, while her fingers tweaked the other nipple. Historia slipped her hands underneath Ymir’s shirt, over to her shoulders, where she eventually dug her nails in. Ymir stopped working her mouth and glanced up. Historia released a whimper of disappointment, but when she opened her eyes she sucked in another breath. Ymir licked her lips, eyes smouldering. Her intents were so clear, and then she started sinking downwards, kissing along Historia’s pale stomach as she did.

“Ymir…” Historia groaned. She focused intently on Ymir’s warmth on her, washing over her skin. There were lips, teeth and tongue, and each brought with it a new spark of arousal that had Historia panting even more harshly.

“You okay there?” Ymir asked calmly, still making her way down Historia’s body. She had her hands on Historia’s hips, circling lightly, as she grinned and waited.

“Perfect,” Historia uttered, barely above a whisper. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back.

Ymir chuckled, and Historia didn’t need to see it to know that a dark brow was raised in her direction. She sighed, opened her eyes to shoot Ymir a glare. “Stop wasting time.”

“Feisty,” Ymir growled. “I like.”

She dipped her head again, and this time Historia watched her. Ymir first lavished attention to Historia’s stomach, tugging at the little navel ring she had—which made Ymir so fucking wet it wasn’t even funny—and then she bit down lightly. She finally scooted down enough to throw Historia’s pants and underwear off, and then threw two small legs over each shoulder. She roughly tugged Historia towards her once, earning a surprised yelp, and then Historia shut her eyes tightly when warm breathed washed over her swollen, wet skin.

“You’re so wet,” Ymir uttered. Her voice was a little breathless. “I should definitely dance more often.”

“Ymir,” Historia snapped. “Stop talking. More fucking.”

Ymir pressed her cheek to Historia’s quivering thigh, and used a fingertip to just gently graze Historia’s sensitive skin. “Bossy, are we?”

“Ymir, I swear to god that if you don’t—Oh god.”

A finger suddenly stroked against Historia’s clit, and the small wave of pleasure quickly shut her up.

“That’s better,” Ymir said. “Now keep quiet.”

“Ymir…”

Ymir placed more bites along Historia’s thighs—seriously, she just loved biting. Historia knew that Ymir loved the marks it left, and loved seeing her usually perfect skin littered with small bruises and bites. It often flustered Historia, embarrassed her, but Ymir’s satisfied smile always pleased her in some way, too.

“Historia,” Ymir voiced firmly. Historia’s head rose lazily, and she cracked her eyes open to look down into Ymir’s brown gaze. “Look at me. Watch me.”

Historia gulped, and then Ymir’s mouth was on her, sucking greedily at her clit. She alternated with that and her tongue, and Historia had to do her very best not to collapse down onto her back and simply writhe in ecstasy. Those eyes watched her, dared her to keep watching, and Historia was always one to rise up to the challenge. So she reached down and tangled her hand into silky brown hair, and tugged _hard._ Ymir growled in response, and she flattened her tongue to sweep over Historia’s sensitive bud. She couldn’t help it, Historia moved her hips against Ymir’s mouth, demanding more friction.

As if taking that as her cue, Ymir returned to sucking Historia’s clit into her mouth, and then she suddenly slid two fingers inside of her, groaning.

“So warm,” Ymir panted. “So wet.”

Historia finally lost control and dropped her head back down. She bit her lip, hard, and let long, desperate moans fall from her lips. Ymir’s fingers were just _so long_ and they glided so easily inside of her. She kept the thrusts tamed at first, the sucking just as soft, but then Ymir began to pick up, curled her fingers and aimed for that sweet spot. When she thrust against it, Historia’s body jerked. Ymir did it again, and then again.

Before long the long fingers working inside of her brought her so fucking close to release. Historia was barely aware of the obscene moans dripping from her mouth, and glanced down heatedly, desperately, to see Ymir’s eyes on her.

“Come for me, Historia,” Ymir breathed, and that was all it took.

Ymir pumped her fingers a few more times, clearly enjoying the taste on her tongue, and then Historia yelled her name as she felt her muscles clench and quiver, pleasure sweeping her up and dropping her down. Ymir removed her lips from Historia’s swollen, throbbing clit, and quickly crawled up along her body to press a kiss underneath her jaw. She continued thrusting her fingers, lengthening Historia’s pleasure for as long as she could until there was a gasp, so soft but urgent, for Ymir to stop. She did, grinning, and licked her fingers clean.

“You’re a mess.”

Historia opened her eyes to roll them, and then sighed when Ymir’s lips pressed to her own and a warm tongue slipped into her mouth. Every cell in her body still hummed in delight, and she could barely feel her legs. But Ymir’s lips were so nice and warm, and that tongue that tasted of sin made Historia warm all over again. She groaned into the kiss, arms winding around Ymir’s neck to pull her down more firmly.

“I enjoy your mouth so much more when you’re not talking,” Historia teased.

“Where do you like my tongue more?” Ymir asked in return. She laughed when Historia went red.

“Why, you…”

Ymir laughed again. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Historia’s forehead, then the tip of her nose. “You’re such an adorable mess after sex.” She sank down, gently so as not to drop all of her weight, and then sighed.

“You’re smiling like a dope,” Historia observed. Her nose tingled still, where Ymir had kissed her—and other places did as well, but that could be addressed in a moment.

Ymir smirked. “I am a dope,” she said. “A big, dumb dope for this adorably short girl. I think you’ve met her.”

“Really?” Historia’s big blue eyes opened in mock interest. “How did you meet her?”

“Fate, really. Or is it destiny?”

“And how do you feel about her?”

“Hmm,” Ymir smiled. “I’d say I’m pretty much really fucking in love with this girl. She makes my sun shine, or some sappy shit like that. You should really meet her. You’d love her.”

Historia laughed, delighted and full of affection. “You huge idiot,” she said, giggling.

Ymir wiggled her eyebrows, and then leaned in for another tender kiss. Things didn’t get that much heated, and hands stayed in safer territories. Ymir was clearly exhausted, what from the provocative dancing and then what transpired after. Historia groaned softly to herself at the memory.

“You look tired.”

Ymir slumped to the side, her cheek coming to rest against Historia’s throat, and then she groaned in defeat. “For such a small person it really takes a lot to make you come, you know?”

Historia huffed. “Oh please, I’m not that difficult.”

“Yes but it has to be perfect.”

“Babe, you get me going really quickly.”

Ymir’s face resurfaced, her eyes shining. “Of course I do. Now let’s take a nap. I’m tired.”

“You can use my boobs if you want.”

Ymir immediately did so, scooting down to cushion her face on two fantastically soft and warm breasts. “Ah, my favourite boob pillow .”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

Historia ran her hands through Ymir’s hair, and then rolled her eyes when she felt Ymir nip slightly at her skin. But then Ymir relaxed, lulled by the warmth, probably her heartbeat and the fingers running through her hair. Before long, she was snoring. Historia smiled to herself.

She would definitely need to get Ymir to dance like that again. Very soon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow Becommissar has reminded me how lovely pure lesbian smut is. I've got enough futa smut out there. We need more pure lesbian lovin', am I right? Keep an eye out for more, and thanks for reading!


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